


The Happiest of Holidays

by tatterwitch



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: American Sign Language, Avenger reader - Freeform, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Flashbacks, Mute Reader, Not Canon Compliant, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Reader-Insert, Sign Language, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-08 01:04:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8823841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatterwitch/pseuds/tatterwitch
Summary: The reader promises to make this Christmas the best Bucky has ever had.“Holograms would be prettier and, you know, cleaner.”You rolled your eyes at Tony and blew at the steaming surface of your drink. With a huff, you pulled your fingers from the warmth of the mug.“If the mess is a problem, I’ll clean it up, myself.” You signed before sipping from your mug.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In this fic, the Reader-Character is mute due a past traumatic experience at the hands of HYDRA. They use American Sign Language (ASL) to communicate. Their speech will be in italics. Sometimes, other characters will communicate in ASL, as well. Their speech, too, will be written in italics. I am not an expert in ASL (though I am learning), PTSD, or the lives of people who are HoH/Deaf. If I have gotten something wrong, or anything, I apologize and please do not hesitate to contact and correct me!

“Holograms would be prettier and, you know,  cleaner .” 

You rolled your eyes at Tony and blew at the steaming surface of your drink. With a huff, you pulled your fingers from the warmth of the mug.

“ _ If the mess is a problem, I’ll clean it up, myself _ .” You signed before sipping from your mug. 

“A tree would add a nice touch of festivity.” Natasha piped up from the counter as she doctored her cup of tea. 

Tony frowned, arms crossing over his chest. “It’s frivolous.”

“Says the poster-child for ostentatious acts.” The words were muttered into Natasha’s cup.

“I heard that.”

One perfect brow arched as red lips curved around the rim of a porcelain mug. Tony’s own brows furrowed as he leaned forward, clearly intent on continuing arguing his point.

Shoes squeaked in the doorway of the kitchen, heralding the arrival of Sam, Steve, and Bucky. The men paraded past the table and bar. Cabinet doors were flung wide, dishes clattering together quietly. The fridge was opened, cartons of milk and juice were retrieved as cereal was unceremoniously dumped into bowls. The chair beside you was pulled out and you pulled your elbows in to make room for Bucky as he sat.

His dark hair was damp with sweat, some tendrils curling charmingly around and behind his ears. The curve of his jaw was darkened with a touch of scruff. You tried not to notice the way his lashes brushed over the very tops of his cheeks as he blinked down at his bowl.

Bucky glanced up, blue eyes flicking your way, probably sensing your staring. You tore your gaze away, pulling your lower lip between your teeth.

“All right. We clearly walked in on something.” Sam said as he poured milk over his wheaties. 

“Y/N’s determined to get a Christmas tree in the tower. The Grinch, over there, is putting a serious cramp in the plans.” Natasha cut Tony off before he could speak.

You nodded, idly spinning your mug between your palms. 

Steve smiled around his mouthful of cereal. He chewed quickly before talking. 

“That sounds like a great idea.”

“No, no, no.” Tony waved his hands as he shook his head. “I can fix us right up. You want a Colorado Blue Spruce? Maybe a Scotch Pine? A Fraser Fir? Tinsel? Popcorn and cranberries for the two old men? How about some Tiffany ornaments? FRIDAY, give us a rendition.”

The television’s picture cut to a display of three trees. The boughs were decked out in everything Tony had mentioned. Lights twinkled in between the decorations. 

“Bam. There you go. We’ll project it in the lobby, in the living area, in the rec hall, in the damn gym, if you want.”

You rapped your knuckles on the table sharply to get his attention.

“ _ A hologram is no comparison to a real tree. If it’s the possibility of a mess, I said that I’d be more than willing to clean it up. You wouldn’t have to help set it up or even decorate if you don’t want to _ .” 

You could hear Sam translating for Steve and Bucky as your hands shaped words. 

“ _ Please, Tony. This is the one thing I want for Christmas _ .” 

“A Christmas tree sounds really nice, actually. I’m with Y/N, here.” Steve smiled over at you. “It’s been years since I’ve gotten to do something like that. Buck, too.”

You smiled back, a touch of sadness curling around your heart. How many holidays had they missed? Heartache made your insides lurch. How many had Bucky spent trapped within his own mind under HYDRA’s control? You made up your mind then. No matter whether you garnered Tony’s permission or not, you were getting a tree inside the tower. You were going to make up for every Christmas Bucky had missed. 

As if sensing your silent promise of rebellion, Tony sighed heavily and pushed his palms outward in a gesture of defeat. 

“Fine. Fine. You can get one tree. One. Tree. Only.”

You grinned and signed your thanks. Tony huffed and waved it away, stalking out of the kitchen with mutters of pine-needle-messes and vermin-infested trees. 

“Y/N, how would you feel about heading out after breakfast and getting that tree?” Steve asked.

You nodded vigorously, fingers excitedly forming your agreement. 

“I’ll go with you.” Sam rinsed his bowl in the sink before setting it into the dishwasher.

“ _ Nat? Are you coming? _ ” 

She shook her head. “I’ll pass this time. Something tells me we won’t find any boxes of decorations lying around. I’ll order some while you guys are out and see what I can do to get them here overnight.”

It’d be easier to just shop for some while you were out for the tree, but you trusted Natasha. Whatever her plans may have been for said ornaments. 

“Buck, what about you?” Steve moved for the sink, drinking the last bit of orange juice in his glass.

You surreptitiously glanced at the man beside you, heart jumping hopefully. Your cheeks heated, though, when you noticed that Bucky’s eyes were already trained on you. One corner of his mouth tilted up in a crooked smile.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’d like to tag along.”

 

  
  


Snow crunched under your feet.

There was barely an inch on the tree farm’s paths and roads, but farther out in the fields it was deeper. It glittered in the sunshine that filtered through the gathering clouds. Rows upon rows of evergreens stood tall and proud in the winter cold. Frost clung to their boughs. Little color-coded ribbons indicated the price range and height of every tree on the farm, tiny bows tied around the snowy branches. 

Sam walked along at your side, knitted hat jammed down over his ears and jacket collar pulled high. Bucky measured his steps to match yours on your other side. His navy coat did a wonderful job of bringing out the blue of his eyes. His hood was drawn up, his gloved hands shoved deep in his pockets. Steve bounded ahead, clearly enjoying himself. His cheeks were pinked from cold and exertion. He kept finding potential trees to bring home, darting from evergreen to evergreen with a boyish grin.

“What about this one?” Steve gestured at a fir tree that was easily twice his own height.

You snorted, shaking your head. The cold nipped at your fingers as you pulled them from the warmth of your pockets.

“ _ Too tall _ .”

“What about that one?” Bucky jerked his chin toward the tree’s neighbor.

It was smaller by about half. The boughs were a vibrant, healthy green and thick with needles. The trunk was a touch crooked but it was perfect despite that.

You nodded, breath puffing out in a happy cloud before your lips. “ _ That’s perfect! Good job, Bucky! _ ”

A hint of pink tinged his cheeks before he shrugged his shoulders. His voice was a little gruff when he spoke.

“Yeah? Well, then what’re we waiting for? Let’s get it cut down and to the truck.” 

It took several minutes to get the fir tree free of its root system and wrapped in burlap. Needles stuck to your sap-sticky fingers as you helped load the tree into the back of the tree farm’s truck. The farm owners had made it clear that they were more than happy to bring the tree to the Avengers’ tower, and really, you couldn’t argue with that. 

The ride back to the tower was longer than usual. It was holiday season after all, and travelers were out and about. The radio stations played cheerful carol after cheerful carol. Steve and Sam sang along with some of them, eventually cajoling Bucky into joining them. You mouthed the lyrics and tried to teach Steve and Bucky the choruses of some in sign-language. 

Your sides ached from laughter and your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. Warmth filled your insides at the sight of Bucky’s crooked grin in the rear-view mirror as Sam stopped in front of the tower. The corners of his eyes crinkled in a way you’d never seen before. He looked...happy. 

Silently, you promised yourself that you’d make this Christmas the best he’d ever had. If only to make him smile like that again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Miss Y/N, Mister Barnes is at your door.” FRIDAY’s gentle voice startled you from your reading.
> 
> Your set your book aside, blindly shoving a marker between the pages. You hastily tossed the bedcovers into a semblance of neatness and toyed with the hem of your sweater. The door opened softly under your hand.
> 
> Bucky’s head lifted quickly, hair falling away from his face in a dark blur. The shadow riding his jaw was darker, edging toward the start of a beard. A red Henley clung to his shoulders and arms like a second skin, causing your belly to tighten and heat.
> 
> With a mental shake, you brought your gaze back to his face before it could wander anywhere else.
> 
> “Ah, good morning, Y/N.” He sounded...off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this fic, the Reader-Character is mute due a past traumatic experience at the hands of HYDRA. They use American Sign Language (ASL) to communicate. Their speech will be in italics. Sometimes, other characters will communicate in ASL, as well. Their speech, too, will be written in italics. I am not an expert in ASL (though I am learning), PTSD, or the lives of people who are HoH/Deaf. If I have gotten something wrong, or anything, I apologize and please do not hesitate to contact and correct me!

“Miss Y/N, Mister Barnes is at your door.” FRIDAY’s gentle voice startled you from your reading.

Your set your book aside, blindly shoving a marker between the pages. You hastily tossed the bedcovers into a semblance of neatness and toyed with the hem of your sweater. The door opened softly under your hand.

Bucky’s head lifted quickly, hair falling away from his face in a dark blur. The shadow riding his jaw was darker, edging toward the start of a beard. A red Henley clung to his shoulders and arms like a second skin, causing your belly to tighten and heat. 

With a mental shake, you brought your gaze back to his face before it could wander anywhere else. 

“Ah, good morning, Y/N.” He sounded...off. 

“ _ Good morning, Bucky. _ ” You signed carefully, mouthing the words as you slanted a curious look his way.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but I was walking by and saw that you had a package on your doorstep.” Bucky jerked his chin down toward your feet. Before lifting his hands to show a markedly similar box. “I got one, too and no one else is around right now, so I thought that maybe we could open them together.”

Oh. You stooped, picking up your own package. The door squeaked quietly as you pushed it wide and motioned him in. He moved past, standing unsure in the center of your room.

Tendrils of dark hair stuck to the fabric of his shirt as Bucky turned his head this way and that. He took in the messy corners of your room with a sort of curious, single-minded intensity. 

You whistled softly to get his attention, patting the bedspread with a questioning smile. 

Bucky sat slowly, bed dipping under his added weight and making you slide toward him a touch. Your knees knocked against his before you situated yourself cross-legged on top of the bedspread. Ignoring the heat that seemed determined to spread across your cheeks, you turned your attention to the box in your lap.

There was no wrapping to cover the brown cardboard and shipping labels. Instead, a simple red, glittery ribbon was wound around the box’s sides. The stuff was tied in a neat bow at the top. A tag made of creamy, thick paper waited there.

Natasha’s familiar handwriting flowed across the paper square. ‘ **Open it, if you like. But you and all of the contents need to be in the living area at 11AM.  -Natasha** ’

You flipped the cardstock, hoping for a hint or clue of some sort as to what was in the package.

‘ **P.S. Wear something red.** ’ 

Well, then. You glanced up, brows lifting at Bucky in question. 

“You want to open yours first, doll?”

You blinked at the term of endearment, trying to will your heart to stop its sudden tap dancing. With a shake of your head, you brought your hand in a back-and-forth motion between the two of you.

“At the same time, then?”

You nodded and began plucking at the bow’s knots. It was trickier than it seemed. Natasha was a professional, after all, and knot-work had never been your strongest area. 

Bucky seemed to notice your struggle and reached over. His silver fingers tugged at some looser section and caused the ribbon to fall away in glittery threads. 

“ _ Show-off _ ,” You teased, scrunching your face at him as you smiled. 

Those broad shoulders lifted in a shrug as a lopsided smile made his eyes shine.

You pushed your hand out from your chin, “ _ Thank you. _ ”

Bucky ducked his head, hiding that charming smile from your view. He peeled back the packaging tape on his box and you hurried to do the same.

Layers of bubblewrap greeted you after folding back the box’s flaps. The thin, bulbous plastic popped and crinkled beneath your fingers. It fluttered to the floor in diaphanous sheets. Yet more boxes greeted you, these ones white and labelled with some company’s branding. The tape sealing them broke free easily enough. 

There were delicate blown-glass animals in a handful of small boxes. Glittery spheres of silver were stacked in plastic trays in two other boxes. A miniature snow-globe on a thick gold ribbon held a replica of the New York skyline in another box. Yet another held pretty chrome-colored baubles on threads. There was a figurine of you in your Avenger’s suit, a tiny silver plaque attached to your feet with your alias engraved into it. 

“I got one of those, too.” Bucky said, letting his own figurine dangle from his fingertips. “Yours looks better, though.”

“ _ What else did you get? _ ” You signed, again mouthing the words as you tried to peek into his box.

His package held much the same as your own; baubles of matte white, a myriad of threaded snowflakes of different sizes and shapes, a tiny replica of the Emerald City on a shiny gold string, and his own figurine. 

You glanced over at the clock before slapping at Bucky’s shoulder. Warm muscle grazed your knuckles as wintery blue eyes darted up to yours.

“What?”

You pointed at the clock and began hastily packing the ornaments back into their boxes. There was less than five minutes before eleven. And you still had to find something red to wear.

With all of your decorations in the bigger package, you scampered over to your closet. Hangers scraped and slid together as you frantically searched for something that would suffice. There! The jumper was an old one, almost threadbare in some spots. It had once been a vibrant maroon but had faded to a much more mellow shade after years of wear and washings. 

You turned, chancing a look at the super-soldier on your bed.

Bucky’s head drew back a bit and he blinked before swallowing. He picked his box up and stood.

“I’ll wait for you outside.”

You nodded, waiting until you heard for the soft click of the door before shucking your sweater and donning the red jumper. You jammed your feet into a pair of thick, comfy socks and grabbed up your box.

Bucky’s eyes swept over you as you shut the door after yourself. His gaze lingered and you momentarily worried that you’d forgotten to do something. Maybe brush your hair or wash your face or put on pants. Then Bucky gave you a crooked smile and nodded toward the elevator.

“Ladies first, doll.”

  
  


The tree had been put in place and left to settle overnight.

It looked beautiful in the warm light of the living area. Music played softly over the sound-system, quiet chimes of sleigh bells threading in-between the lines of the chorus. 

Steve and Sam were hunched over a pile of what looked to be burgundy beads threaded on a ridiculously long stretch of twine. Both men wore red-and-green elf caps complete with attached pointy ears. 

Tony fiddled with something over by the windows, tools spread on his lap as Bruce chatted with Vision and Wanda close-by. 

Wanda smiled at you over her shoulder warmly and gave a small wave. You returned the gesture with a smile of your own. 

Natasha was elbows-deep in what looked like an oversized spool of fairy lights. Clint was perched on the back of a sofa, a Santa hat sitting crooked on his head. His tongue poked out a touch as he threaded strings through the tops of baubles. At your entrance, however, he glanced up and set aside his work to sign a quick ‘ _ hello _ ’.

You sent him a smile as you set your box down on one of the love-seats. “ _ Busy at work, I see. _ ”

“ _ The slave-driver’s had me at this since six this morning. Do you know how many of these things I’ve threaded? _ ”

“ _ Too many _ .” You huffed a laugh and pointed at a spare skein of ribbon. “ _ Want some help? _ ”

“ _ You’re an angel, Y/N _ .” Clint hand you a pair of scissors and directed you to a stack of plastic trays filled with unthreaded baubles.

It was then that you noted Bucky still hovering, unsure, behind you. He’d sat his box down beside yours but was glancing between the people in the room, brows knit in a sort of frown.

You whistled, trying to garner his attention. But Bucky didn’t seem to hear. His eyes had focused on some unseen middle-distance.

Carefully, you reached out, fingertips ghosting over the knuckles of his cybernetic hand. The metal was cool, but not cold. The plates in his arm whirred quietly as his fingers uncurled from the fist they’d clenched into. He blinked cautiously, eyes roving over the room before slanting down to look at you. 

“ _ Would you like to help? _ ” You pointed at the scissors and a spool of ribbon.

Bucky nodded jerkily and followed your lead as you folded yourself onto the couch cushions. 

After a few moments, the pair of you developed a rhythm. Bucky would carefully cut measured lengths of ribbon and pass them to you. The glittery stuff proved tricky to get through the ornaments’ loops. Little flecks of shiny sparkles clung to your fingertips tenaciously by the time the last tray of baubles was finished. 

Natasha finally set the spool of lights aside with a pleased hum. She turned, eyes flicking between you and Bucky. A small smile made the corners of her lips quirk up. You knew that smile. It was the one she got when something she’d set into motion had gone exactly as planned. Usually at the expense of whoever it was directed at. Anxiety prickled down your spine in an unpleasant wave. What had she planned this time?

Thankfully, Natasha looked away before she could spot the way you shrank against the back of the couch. She clapped her hands together once to get everyone’s attention.

“All right. The lights have been untangled. The last of the ornaments have been threaded. The ‘cranberry garland’ has been finished. Tony-”

“Perfection takes time, Miss Romanov.” 

Wanda smiled behind her hand, “The star is the last to be put on the tree, yes?”

“Exactly.” Tony pointed a slightly-reddened fingertip at her. “It’s the most important part. I just can’t half-ass the most important part.”

“A half-assed tree-topper would be the worst thing we’ve ever had to deal with.” Bruce pushed a soldering iron Tony’s way before grabbing his own ornament box.

“Watch it. Santa’s got eyes everywhere. Sass like that won’t get you that new science project kit.”

Bruce shook his head with a barely-stifled snort. 

“We’ll get started with the garland and lights, then.” Natasha crooked her fingers at Sam and Steve.

It took everyone to get the lengthy garland of red beads untangled and positioned just-so over and around the tree’s boughs. The lights went on easier, already unknotted due to Natasha’s foresight. By that time, Tony had set aside the tree-topper and joined the rest of you in hanging ornaments on the tree.

Natasha declared that everyone’s figurines needed to be at the very top. The branches there were stronger and were less likely to be knocked accidentally, she said. 

Wanda placed both Vision’s and her own easily, fingers curling through furls of red energy and causing the figurines to nestle onto branches neatly. Bruce climbed up onto a small step-ladder, glasses sliding down his nose as he placed his figurine. Steve and Sam tiptoed to get their two just right. Clint and Natasha balanced on the back of the couch, each acting as the other’s anchor as they leaned forward and up to settle their ornaments just so. Tony took a page out of Bruce’s book and dragged the step-ladder to his preferred position. 

“Here, I’ll give you a lift.” A pair of broad hands palmed your hips from behind.

Bucky lifted you easily, arms sliding around your middle to get a more secure hold. You could feel the solid heat of his chest against your lower back as you stretched upward and placed your figurine. Ignoring the warmth creeping up the back of your neck, you patted Bucky’s wrist in a bid for him to put you down.

Your socked feet slid a bit on the floor before he let you go, hands lingering around your waist. His breath ruffled a few locks of hair by your ear before he straightened and stepped around you to place his own figurine. It swung beside yours, silver plaque gleaming in the glow of the fairy lights.

Thankfully, everyone was too busy digging through their boxes of ornaments to notice your flustered state. Well, everyone except Clint. He caught your eye, giving you a playful wink.

“ _ Shut up. _ ” You wrinkled your nose at him and stuck out your tongue childishly.

The tree was decorated in stages. Mostly because work stopped periodically for playful teasing and bauble-tossing. Clint brought out a couple sets of felted reindeer antlers on headbands and slapped them onto Tony and Bruce’s heads. Tony huffed indignantly and demanded that Clint swap him for his Santa hat. A bargain was struck after much muttering and a stealthy handshake behind the couch. 

Bucky had found his own Santa hat from the bottom of his box. He made a face at it before trying to hide it away. Steve and Natasha had none of that. The velvety red cap was jammed down over his hair with a teasing shove from Steve. Natasha snapped a picture on her phone of Bucky’s scowl under the fuzzy white brim.

He moved to rip it off after the camera flashed, fingers catching at the edge. You reached up and smoothed it back down before settling the puffy end over his left ear. 

“ _ Keep it on. It looks cute on you. _ ” Your fingers formed the words almost without volition. The only saving grace was that you hadn’t mouthed the words for him. That wasn’t fair, really, but well…

Soon enough, everyone’s boxes were empty. Tony retrieved the tree-topper from the coffee table and fiddled with something on its back. The sleek silver metal illuminated with a warm light, rayed points shining prettily. Wanda placed the star with a smile and a wave of her hand. 

Natasha then ordered everyone to stand in front of the tree so FRIDAY could get a photo. It was a silly picture with elbows pressed against ribs and faces aching from laughter. And through it all, you could feel Bucky’s arm draped around your waist. His hand curled around your hip and tucked you against his side. 

FRIDAY counted down.

In the corner of your eye, you could’ve sworn Bucky was smiling down at you instead of the camera. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was a beat of silence in which your hopes plummeted. There was no way you were going out alone. It looked like you’d just have to order online, after-all. Rush shipping was going to be a bitch.
> 
> “If you want company, I’m free.” Bucky’s voice broke through your irritated thought-train.
> 
> You blinked up at him, insides flip-flopping. Every neuron in your mind ceased firing. It was a moment before you could make your fingers work.
> 
> “ _What- Are you sure_?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this fic, the Reader-Character is mute due a past traumatic experience at the hands of HYDRA. They use American Sign Language (ASL) to communicate. Their speech will be in italics. Sometimes, other characters will communicate in ASL, as well. Their speech, too, will be written in italics. I am not an expert in ASL (though I am learning), PTSD, or the lives of people who are HoH/Deaf. If I have gotten something wrong, or anything, I apologize and please do not hesitate to contact and correct me!

You tapped at the pad of paper on the kitchen table thoughtfully.

The pen’s cap drummed softly against the small pages of yellow paper as you squinted down at the list of gifts you still had yet to buy. A few were simply waiting for pickup at local stores. You hadn’t been willing to have the packages, themselves, shipped to the tower in case of sticky fingers or nosy Avengers getting ahold of them before you could. But the bulk of the gifts you’d left until the very last minute. 

With a sigh, you checked your phone for the fifth time. You’d messaged Natasha earlier to see if she’d accompany you into the city for some shopping and maybe some much-needed girl-time. She still hadn’t answered and you were beginning to get antsy. 

The prospect of going into the city alone had a cold sweat beading along your hairline. No. No, that just wouldn’t work. You’d made progress with therapy and Sam’s help, but you weren’t ready. Not yet. 

An overly-warm hand settled over the top of your shoulder. The fingers squeezed gently as you turned to look up, scrambling to cover your notes.

“Whatcha got there, Y/N?” Steve nodded at the battered pad of paper currently smooshed beneath your palms.

“My bet’s on Christmas gifts.” Sam called, head ducked into the fridge. 

You scowled at his back. How had he known?

Orange juice sloshed into a glass with a happy noise. Sam set it aside to fish for the milk. Bucky lifted the glass and his own bowl of cereal and made his way over to the dining table. Sam straightened, uncapping the milk and finally glancing at the counter. He turned, shooting a glare at the super-soldier across from you.

Bucky tipped the glass back, ignoring the dark look. One of his eyes dropped in a wink as he met your gaze.

Heat prickled up the back of your neck. You closed your notepad and stuffed it into your robe’s pocket for safekeeping. 

Steve sat himself down next to Bucky with a tired sigh. He gave you a warm smile as he added a handful of blueberries to his oatmeal.

“So? Was Sam right?”

You narrowed your eyes and shoved your hands into your pockets to better protect your secrets. 

“I think that’s an affirmative.” Sam took a seat beside you, taking special care to kick Bucky’s shins as he sat.

“ _ Shut up _ ,” You signed, before taking a swat at him. 

On the table, your phone chirped cheerily. You snatched it up, unlocking it with a few quick jabs. You read Natasha’s response with a frown before setting the phone aside with a put-upon sigh.

“What’s up?” Sam asked around a mouthful of cereal.

“ _ I need to go into the city to get some shopping done but Nat’s...indisposed. _ ” You pushed your pen across the table a bit before glancing back up. “ _ Would you mind coming with me, Sam? _ ”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I can’t. I’ve got a few meetings scheduled. Maybe Steve-?”

The blond man shook his head with a grimace of apology. “Tony’s got me booked with some sort of video-meeting with some SHIELD big-wigs. Sorry.”

There was a beat of silence in which your hopes plummeted. There was no way you were going out alone. It looked like you’d just have to order online, after-all. Rush shipping was going to be a bitch.

“If you want company, I’m free.” Bucky’s voice broke through your irritated thought-train.

You blinked up at him, insides flip-flopping. Every neuron in your mind ceased firing. It was a moment before you could make your fingers work.

“ _ What- Are you sure? _ ”

Sam translated for you, a hint of a smile lacing his words. 

“Sure. If you’ll have me, I’d be happy to tag along. I’ve got shopping to do, too. And, come to think of it, it’s been awhile since I’ve seen the city. Something tells me it’s changed from the last time I saw it.” Bucky slanted a look over at Steve.

“You’re not wrong.” Steve chuckled.

Of course. Bucky was curious about the city. How it had changed. He had shopping to do. He wanted to go because of those things. Not because of you. Of course. 

You tamped down on the wings fluttering inside your belly as you pulled a piece of paper from your notes. After jotting down what time you planned on leaving, you slid the scrap toward Bucky and left to shower and dress. 

  
  


Snow crusted the sidewalks and sewer-grates. 

Dirty slush turned the roads into a sloppy brown mess, but it could be overlooked with how charming everything else looked. Fairy lights adorned the edges of windows and awnings. Chalkboard signs painted with festive phrases and pretty designs declared holidays deals. There were countless window displays of faux snow, reindeer, sleighs, and colorful baubles. 

Snow fell in tiny, sporadic flakes. They stuck to your lashes and scarf, melting slowly as you wandered the streets.

Bucky stuck close by your side. His collar was turned up high over top a thick blue scarf. A knit cap was jammed down over his long hair and ears. The very tops of his cheeks were pinked from the cold. The color made the blue of his eyes stand out even more, you noted, heart tripping in your chest.

Colored shopping bags climbed the length of your arms, rustling with every movement. Tissue paper crinkled as you readjusted them with a grunt. 

Bucky slanted a look down at you. “Want me to carry some of those for you, doll?”

You wrinkled your nose and shook your head before mouthing, “ _Just tired_.”

“Oh. Well, maybe we could find somewhere to sit and grab a bite to eat? Then we could warm up, too.” Bucky stamped his feet comically, chunks of snow falling from his boots. His eyes crinkled above the hem of his scarf.

You nodded in agreement. That did sound like a very appealing idea.

After a few more blocks, the two of you settled on a small corner cafe. The interior was lit with bright amber light, bare bulbs giving the place a unique sort of ambience. There were tables and chairs in addition to a few booths. The menu was scrawled in chalk over the counter, neat colored letters standing out against the dusty black paint. Glass cases of sweets and baked goods gleamed in the warm lighting. 

Your stomach growled as you peeled off your gloves and pulled your phone from your pocket. It was unlikely that they had an employee who was fluent in ASL, most places didn’t. That fact bothered you, but, really, there wasn’t much you could do about it. No matter how frustrating it was.

Bucky cautiously tugged his scarf down and away from his face as he followed you up to the counter. His boots made no sound on the faux-wood laminate while he bent over one of the many cases of baked goods. Snow speckled his broad shoulders, sparkling flecks quickly disappearing inside the warmth of the cafe. A few locks of long, dark hair peeked out from beneath his cap. The corner of his jaw was dark with scruff and gave the cupcakes he was eyeing a run for delectability, in your opinion.

“Hi, there. How can I help you today?” A chipper young man’s voice tugged your attention away from Bucky.

With a guilty, embarrassed start, you realized that you’d probably been staring. You offered the young man a chagrined smile before holding your phone up with your order typed onto the notes screen. He tapped at the register and accepted your payment before passing your order onto his coworker.

Bucky quietly placed his own order and moved to your side again to wait. He eyed the boards before huffing a soft laugh and nudging your shoulder with his own. 

“Well, I never...I bet Stark’d get a kick outta that.”

One slate of the chalkboard menu was painted with little renditions of the Avengers fighting the Chitauri. In the center of the board were a handful of ‘special drinks’ in honor of the team. 

From the Hulk Smash, a green tea with a ‘potent kick’, to the Black Widow Boba, you had to give the cafe props. It was clever and pretty funny. You snapped a photo of the board with a smile and sent it off to the rest of the team.

By then, both yours and Bucky’s orders were completed and slid across the counter. The pair of you found a booth in the corner to sit. You both ate quickly, intent on getting back before nightfall. 

Once finished, you dumped the trash into a receptacle and pushed a few bills into the tip jar.

It had gotten colder while you’d been inside.

The flakes of snow were fat and falling thickly. They coated the streets and stuck to the sidewalks. Stoplights blinked red and green in the misty air. You smiled to yourself as you admired the fairy lights lining a window display across the street.

Too caught up in that, however, you neglected to watch where you were going. A body slammed into your own, knocking you sideways. Flakes of snow stuck to your lashes and blurred your vision, but you still caught a flicker of blonde hair out of the corner of your eye. 

Suddenly, you were back there, on the night it had happened. 

_ Blonde hair. A woman. A sharp pain as she barreled into your shoulder. Strange numbing darkness at the edges of your vision. An alley. Colored paper bags fluttering to the ground, contents smashing on the frigid tar. Darkness, darkness, darkness… _

“Y/N? Are you-Are you having a flashback?” Bucky’s voice filtered through your roiling thoughts.

You nodded, trying to ground yourself. You were Y/N. You were an Avenger. You were in New York. You were safe. The mantra helped in clearing your mind. 

“You’re safe. You hear me? You’re safe.” Hands held your own securely, leather-covered fingers pushing between yours. “Do you need me to call someone? Sam? Natasha?”

You shook your head as you gulped in air. The winter-cold stuff shocked your system back toward reality a bit more. Carefully, you opened your eyes.

Bucky was ducked down, head bent close to yours. Blue eyes shone with concern and understanding beneath furrowed brows. His breath puffed warm across your cheeks. 

“What about a cab?”

You shook your head again and jerked your chin down the street. 

“You wanna walk it off?”

“ _ Yes _ ,” You mouthed, ducking your head to avoid the stares of any passersby that had witnessed your outburst. 

“All right then.” Bucky kept hold of one of your hands all the way back to the tower.

And despite everything, you'd never felt warmer. 


End file.
